Текст книги "From What I Remember"

Автор книги: Valerie Thomas

Соавторы: Stacy Kramer
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

“I’m buying it for you,” Max announces.

“No…Max, come on. That’s ridiculous. I can’t let you do that.”

I inch my way toward the dressing room. Max takes my hand to stop me. The old woman makes herself scarce, sensing that her sale relies on Max’s power of persuasion.

“Kylie, let me buy it for you. As a graduation gift. You can wear it tonight and then throw it away if you want. You’ve been wearing those jeans all day. You must be dying to change into something clean.”

“So, I’m looking dirty?”

“That’s not what I meant. I think you know that.”

Max is looking at me with such expectation and excitement in his eyes, I am loath to disappoint him.

“Okay,” I say, even though I am not the kind of person who ever wears dresses, especially frilly fuchsia dresses, or lets guys buy things for me. Tonight, I will be that person—for Max. And maybe for me as well. “Thanks, Max.”

“You’re welcome, Kylie.”

Our eyes meet. We’re standing close. Close enough so I can feel his breath on my face. I am transfixed by his full lips, his green eyes. His hair hangs over his left eye. I want to push it off to the side, touch my hand to his face. What must it be like to kiss Max Langston? Clearly, I’m not going to find out now, because the old woman suddenly materializes next to us, holding a pair of white cotton shoes—espadrilles with woven soles and strings that tie around the ankle.

“To go with the dress,” the woman says. I’ve got to hand it to her; she’s milking this for all it’s worth.

I take the shoes and slip them on.

“Perfect,” Max says.

Max hands the woman U.S. dollars, which she’s happy to take, and we leave the store. If I didn’t feel like I was wandering through someone else’s life before, now I really do. I’m in costume; I’m just not sure what part I’m playing. The obvious allusion to Cinderella does not escape my attention. I’ve got the ball gown, someone has slipped a new pair of shoes on my feet, and there’s Max, the prince. Two big problems with this picture: Max is someone else’s prince, and I’m so not a princess, it’s laughable.

As I’m burrowing into these thoughts, Max makes a beeline for a small plaza with a stone fountain in the middle. He takes my hand and drags me with him. A couple of teenagers emerge from the fountain, dripping wet, and wander off, laughing. Otherwise, the plaza is relatively deserted. A few old men stand in a circle smoking cigars. Several couples wander by, hand in hand. A man to the side of the fountain is playing the violin, and a woman next to him plays the cello. This is not mariachi music. It’s not even Mexican music, as far as I can tell. It’s mournful, sweeping, and romantic.

“Dance with me,” Max says. It isn’t a question. And it isn’t a command. His comment lies somewhere in between. He’s serious, not even a little bit joking.

I don’t say anything. But my eyes say, Yes, yes, yes. I’d love to. Right here. Right now. In the middle of this street in Ensenada. And, like we’ve known each other for years, like we have some kind of secret way of communicating, Max takes me in his arms without my ever saying anything. Without him ever responding.

My heart is beating so loudly I’m afraid Max can hear it. I put my head on his shoulder. Our bodies are pressed close. Every one of my senses is on high alert as we move to the music, slowly, perfectly in sync. I am completely transported. I can’t remember being happier than at this moment. I wish I could stop time just for an hour or two.

The musicians and a few other stragglers watch us. A couple wandering by stops and starts to dance as well. I take my head off Max’s shoulder, pull back and look at him. He’s staring at me intently.

“What?” I say, suddenly self-conscious.

“You should wear your hair down more often. And you should wear that dress, like, every day.”

“That would be kind of weird.”

“Yeah, maybe.…”

“And it would start to smell.”

Max doesn’t say anything; he just gazes down at me. I realize that he is going to kiss me. We’ve been on the verge of this for what seems like weeks. The interruptions have only added to the anticipation. I’m literally shaking from the suspense, the desire. Max leans into me, his lips hover over mine. I can feel the warmth from his breath. I want his lips on mine so badly my whole body feels the craving like a deep ache. My pulse races. I try to slow it down, breathing deep. I’m waiting, eager, and scared to death. I’ve never done this before.

Max’s lips move in, and, at the same time, due to nerves or some kind of sudden onset of Tourette’s, I turn the slightest bit to the left and his kiss lands on my cheek. I’m mortified and disappointed. Such an amateur. I completely blew it. I’m a total freak.

Max pulls away, not much, just enough to look at me. Is he mad? Hurt? Confused? It would all make sense. I mean, what am I doing sending mixed signals like this? I don’t know what I’m doing, that’s the problem.

But he’s none of those things. He breaks into a big smile.

“How about we try that again?” he asks.

“Excellent idea.”

Max takes my face in his hands, to prevent any sudden moves, I’m guessing, and plants his sweet, soft lips on mine, and then I hear—

“Go for it, Kylie!!” Someone yells from a window above the plaza. Someone who sounds suspiciously like Will.

Max takes his lips off of mine. No. Wait. Please. Don’t go.…

Damn. What the hell? Foiled again.

We both look up and scan the buildings nearby. I can see someone leaning out of a fourth-story window, waving a T-shirt in the air like a war surrender.

“Kylie! Over here.”

It’s Will. I’m happy to see him but pissed at the terrible timing.

“‘Darling, I don’t know how to tell you this, but there’s a Chinese family in our bathroom,’” he yells from the window.

On the upside, we found Will. On the downside, we lost the moment. Maybe we’ll find it again.

“Your movie thing?” Max asks me.

“(500) Days of Summer.”

“Get your butts up here. Now,” Will insists. “We’ve got a party going on and we’ve been waiting forever for you guys to show up.”

That makes absolutely no sense, which is perfectly consistent with this whole day.

hat took you guys so long?” Will is standing in the doorway of an apartment where a party rages behind him. He’s wearing jeans, a button-down shirt, and flip– flops. This is not the Will Bixby that’s been flying his gay flag as high as he can for six years.

“We’ve been looking for you for the past two hours,” Kylie says.

“Look no further, darlings, ’cause here I am!” Will exclaims, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he left us stranded.

“Yeah, would have been nice to know where you went,” Kylie says.

“Shit happened, if you know what I mean.”

“Why do you look so…straight?” Kylie asks.

“I’m trying something new,” Will says. “Just like you.” He peers at Kylie with a knowing look, and she turns away.

He obviously saw us dancing, kissing. I feel embarrassed for Kylie and for me. I really don’t need Will Bixby making jokes at my expense.

“Dude, you totally disappeared on us,” I say. “We can’t leave till morning now.”

“My bad. Sorry. Guess we’ll just have to party our asses off until then.”

“Seriously, Will, I’m not missing graduation,” Kylie says.

“No worries, Kyles. Your chariot awaits in the morning. I’ll get you to that podium in plenty of time. I just think we oughta play while we’re in the game. You only live once, baby doll.”

Will is acting like we’re fashionably late to a party we didn’t even know about. Normally I’d be pissed, but I can’t exactly be mad at the guy who drove to Mexico on a moment’s notice to get us.

“Loving the look,” Will says to Kylie, referring to her dress. “It’s so not you. And that’s a very good thing.”

“Max made me get it.”

“Max Langston has taste. Who knew? I’m impressed. God knows, I couldn’t get Kylie into a dress if my life depended on it,” Will tells me.

“She should wear them more often, right?” I’m talking to Will but looking at Kylie.

“Okay, message received. I dress like shit most of the time.”

“Not most of the time,” I say.

“All the time,” Will says.

“That’s not what I meant,” I say, because it isn’t.

“I’m officially insulted,” Kylie says.

“I’m officially kidding,” Will says. “You look hot in jeans and a T-shirt, but even hotter in a crazy-ass Mexican dress.” He polishes off the rest of his beer. “Okay. I need another one,” he says. “And so do you guys. You’re way too sober.”

“Trust me, we’re not sober. We’ve been drinking all night,” I say.

“Well, you’re more sober than me. You guys need to play catch-up. Especially since no one’s driving anywhere tonight. The bar’s in the kitchen. Help yourself. I’ll be floating around the room on a cloud of romance and inebriation. Come find me.”

And with that, Will disappears.

“He is one wack dude,” I say, hoping Kylie won’t take it the wrong way.

“Yep. No doubt about it. And I love that about him.”

I look around the room. Techno music throbs from giant speakers. The smell of smoke mingles with the unmistakable scent of aftershave. The room is crammed full of guys, totally cut, wearing tight T-shirts, grinding into one another on a makeshift dance floor.

Shit. I should have figured. This is the ultimate gay boy house party, Mexican style. Will must be in heaven. As I’m having this epiphany, I can’t help but notice Kylie taking in the room at the same time. She bites her lip to stop from giggling. I know what she’s thinking. That this is not my scene. At all. She couldn’t be more right about that. I’m probably the only straight guy in the room, and Kylie is one of the few girls. I want to get out of here.

Will reappears with three beers. “Since you didn’t get to the bar yet, I brought the bar to you. No thanks required. But you’re on your own from now on.”

As Will hands me a beer, he leans in to me, close. A little too close. He’s already kissed me once. I’m not down for another shot. I step away, but Will grabs my hand. Damn, he’s stronger than he looks.

“Max, break our Kylie’s heart and I will hunt you down like a dog. And tear you apart.” I never thought of Will Bixby as anything more than a joke. But he’s not. He’s fierce in his love and concern for Kylie. And kind of scary as his eyes bore into me.

“I won’t. Don’t worry,” I say. He lets me go.

Juan waves from across the room.

“Okay, kiddies, time for me to fly. Try to mingle. And if you can’t mingle, dance. And if you can’t dance…well, you’ll come up with something.”

Kylie and I watch as Will rushes up to Juan, tosses an arm around his shoulder, and nuzzles into his neck. And then they’re kissing. Full on, frontal. Juan seems way, way out of the closet. Hard to believe he’s trying to keep any of this a secret from his family.

Juan slips his hands into Will’s jeans pockets and pulls him close. They sway to the music. I’ve never seen two dudes kiss before. Okay, I saw Brokeback Mountain, and I was a little weirded out by it. But somehow, in the flesh, it’s different. It’s not as strange as I would have thought. Not that much different than a guy and a girl. They actually seem kinda sweet together. Still, I don’t need to be here watching it all.

“Wow. The caterpillar has finally turned into a butterfly,” Kylie says.

“He was always pretty butterfly-ish, no?”

“Less so than you’d think. He talks a big game, but he’s never really been with a guy. Until now, I guess.”

“He’s catching on fast,” I say as Kylie and I watch them suck face on the dance floor.

“Yeah, well, Will’s always been a quick study.”

“Yo, I’m the only straight dude here,” I whisper as two guys in wifebeaters walk by and check me out. “It’s kinda freaking me out.”

“You’re fresh meat,” she says. “How does it feel to be objectified?”

“I’m not into it.”

“It’s hard to be hot.”

“Yeah, I never really had a problem with it until now.”

“Oh my God, you are homophobic.”

“Not at all. I just…I’m not gay, and everyone here thinks I am.”

“Well, you’re with me, and I know you’re not gay,” Kylie says, flashing a smile at me. She finishes her beer, tosses the bottle into the garbage, and grabs my hand. “Let’s dance,” she says, pulling me toward the center of the room, near the speakers. My body is rigid with discomfort as we squeeze between several couples. I want to relax and get into it, for Kylie’s sake, but it’s awkward; it’s so not my scene. I don’t like this kind of music. Too techno. Too much bass. Too much thumping redundancy.

Kylie begins to dance, but I don’t do much at first. I’m not used to dancing like this, packed into a room full of guys. I watch Kylie shake to the beat, throwing her whole body into it. I’m not sure she would have done this twenty-four hours ago; something in her is shifting. She looks so sexy and fierce. She’s like a giant pink flower in the middle of the room, her dress swinging back and forth on her hips, her hair flying wild. Something in me releases, and I start to loosen up.

I forget about everything but Kylie and her gorgeous body bumping into mine. We move around and into one another, ours shoulders touching, our hips grazing each other’s. Everyone in the room is dancing with abandon. It’s screamingly loud, the beat is pulsing, and everyone is singing along. I can feel my discomfort washing away. I put my hands on Kylie’s hips and pull her to me. Our bodies grind into one another. She feels so good. I don’t want to ever let her go. Kylie and I are grinning at each other, talking without saying anything. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before.

“‘Baby, I was born this way…’” Will has found us in the crowd and dances up next to us, belting out Lady Gaga. He’s got a glow stick in his hand that he’s swinging above his head like a lasso. Juan, behind him, is cracking up. And then Will dances off, Juan in tow.

Before I know what’s happening, Kylie has disappeared and I’m dancing with a dude in a black fedora and a red bandana around his neck. Whoa! What up? Where is Kylie? The dude puts his hands on my hips. I’m not down with this. At all. Thankfully, Kylie reappears.

“You mind if I dance with your date?” Kylie asks the dude.

“He’s all yours,” he says, shimmying off to another partner.

“Okay, that was weird,” I say.

“Sorry, things got a little chaotic. I ended up with a guy who looked like Justin Bieber.”

“Think I’d rather have fedora guy.”

“I’d rather have you,” Kylie says.

And then she takes my face in her hands, pulls me close, and we’re kissing. Finally. Thankfully. Amazingly. It’s an aggressive move, and I like it. This time, neither of us holds back. Our tongues explore each other’s mouths. My hands plunge into her hair. Her hands roam my back, my stomach, my ass. It doesn’t matter that the room is filled to capacity; in my mind we’re the only two people on earth. I can feel the warmth of her body radiating up her back. I don’t know where her mouth ends and mine begins. I want her with everything I’ve got.

I don’t know if it’s been five minutes or five hours, when Kylie suddenly pulls away, so fast I nearly fall into her.

“Whoa…what’s going on?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, I just…” Kylie stands there staring at me, as the music and people swirl around us.

“What happened?”

“I just…need to get some air.” Kylie turns and walks off the dance floor. I follow her.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know, I need to walk.” Kylie makes her way toward the front door.

“You’re leaving?”

“I’ll be back. I need a minute…to think…alone. I just…this all caught me by surprise.”

“Yeah, me too.…”

“But you’re used to this. I’m new at it. And I…I don’t know. I’m okay. Really. I just need some air.”

“You shouldn’t go by yourself. It’s dark. You don’t know where you are. I’ll just walk with you. I won’t say anything—”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just going down to the harbor. I’ll be back soon.” And then, she’s gone.

Man, this girl…

’m lying in bed, my head under the covers, reading The Hobbit with a flashlight, in case Mom or Dad comes in. They don’t like it when I stay up past my bedtime. But I do it all the time. Mom only found me once, and I promised her I wouldn’t do it again, but that wasn’t true. It’s like a secret forest. I love it in here, especially late at night. It’s hard to read with Mom and Dad still talking so loudly. Mom is mad. I don’t think she’s mad at Dad even though she’s yelling at him. I think she’s mad at Kylie even though she’s not here. I think Kylie might be in big trouble when she comes home. I’ve never heard Mom so mad. Even Dad is mad. And Dad usually doesn’t care enough to get really mad. Although he told me earlier that he does care. I don’t think he was lying. He seemed to mean it and he was a lot nicer than he usually is. He let me tell him all about the Garbage Patch while we had pizza, and then we came home and watched Star Wars together and he didn’t even fall asleep. So maybe he does care. He just forgot how to show it.

Mom came home while we were watching Star Wars and said that Kylie was sleeping over at Will’s house, which meant I wouldn’t see Kylie until the morning. I really wanted to talk to Kylie, so I called her on her cell. I called seven times, but she never picked up. It went straight to voice mail. I waited and waited for Kylie to call back. We finished Star Wars. I brushed my teeth and Kylie still hadn’t called back. So I called Will’s house. His mother answered. She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to me, which was fine because I didn’t want to talk to her. I wanted to talk to Kylie. But she said Kylie wasn’t there and neither was Will. When I told Mom, she called Will’s mom right back, and when she hung up she told me to go to bed, and then she started yelling at Dad. It’s been a half hour and she’s still yelling. I hope Kylie’s okay. I wonder where she is.

elicitaciones!” an old woman says as I pass her. Congratulations? For what? For running away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me? For not knowing how to be young and impulsive and carefree? For falling for a guy with a serious girlfriend? For being completely, totally, emotionally, socially retarded? I’m walking to the end of a long pier that extends out over the water. I lost Max somewhere along the boardwalk. I was ducking and weaving through the crowds and then ended up on the pier. I’m pretty sure Max continued to look for me on the boardwalk, heading in the opposite direction. I know it’s ridiculous to hide from him like this, but I need to think, to gather my wits. I don’t know what I’m doing here, and somehow, someway, I’ve got to figure it out.

The pier is wooden and narrow, and as I walk the length of it I have the sensation that I’m walking on water. I can see the bay shimmering on all sides, and beneath me, too, between the slats of wood. There’s a full moon shining so bright it lights up the whole sky. I pass by a few couples sitting with their legs dangling over the water. I can’t help thinking this would be a lovely spot to hang with Max. Too bad I’ve just abandoned him.

When I finally reach the end of the pier, I’m alone. I turn around and can see all of Ensenada circling the bay, the hills rising above the water, the lights of the town blinking and glowing. I take a seat on the ground. It feels like I’m sitting at the edge of the world. I stare out at the wide expanse of ocean. I can make out a few boats in the distance. I think I see something jump out of the water. A dolphin? I doubt it.

What am I doing? I practically attacked Max on the dance floor and then went scurrying away like a scared little mouse. I am so not normal. I may even be psychotic. Something took hold of me and I couldn’t help myself. I had to touch his skin, feel his lips on mine. It felt so good, so right. But then I couldn’t help thinking that he’s not really mine. He’s Lily’s. This isn’t right.

But if he really belonged to Lily, would any of this have happened? Would it have felt so right? I remind myself, they aren’t married. We’re just teenagers. This is hardly adultery. There’s obviously something happening between us. Why can’t I explore it? See what happens, where it goes. Sure, he could break my heart tomorrow. But isn’t it worth taking the chance? Why must I always hold back, ruminating, instead of just jumping in with abandon?

“¡Felicitaciones!” a couple calls out as they approach.

What is up with all the congratulations? Are people mistaking me for someone else? Someone lucky in love. Someone who deserves congratulations. That’s not me, people. I am a fool. I just ran away from a very hot guy who happened to be totally into me, at least for the moment.

The couple approaches. They stand a few feet away, staring down at me. Am I meant to answer them?

“Uh, gracias,” I say.

“American?” the girl asks me.

“Yes.”

As soon as people discover you’re American, they’re dying to speak English with you. It’s such a funny thing. In the States, we’d never speak anything but English with a foreigner. The world of the superpower. It means never having to say you’re sorry in anything but English.

“You came down to Ensenada to get married?” the boy asks.

What are they talking about?

“Married? No,” I say.

“But you’re wearing the dress,” the girl says.

I look down at my dress. “I just bought it here. In Ensenada.”

That’s when I notice we’re both wearing the same dress; hers is yellow. Wait. Did I actually buy a wedding dress? Oh, shit. What a royal, freaking mistake. No wonder everyone is congratulating me. I’m parading through the streets in a wedding dress. What an idiot. And Max bought it for me. I have to laugh at the irony.

“It looks nice on you,” she says.

“You too,” I say.

They walk away, leaving me in the lonely company of my endless stream of anxieties. The alcohol must be wearing off, because the volume in my head has been turned way up. Can’t I just shut down my brain and let my heart lead the way? So he’s got a girlfriend. Don’t people sometimes meet the love of their life when they’re already with someone? What about The Philadelphia Story? Sleepless in Seattle? But those are movies, and this is real life, my real life, where movie endings NEVER happen.

I can’t think about this anymore. I lie down on the wood planks and stare up at the sky. It’s filled to capacity with stars. I never see this many stars in San Diego. The city lights are too bright; the sky looks murky and muted. But out here it’s clear and pristine. I think I can make out the Little Dipper. I start to count stars. It’s a good distraction from the dizziness of going round and round.

“Found you,” Max says, looking down at me. “Turns out, I’m not so easy to get rid of.”

I’m so happy he’s here I feel like crying. And yet I have no idea where to begin, based on where we left off.

“I guess not.”

“Gotta hand it to you, though. That was a tricky move back there. Took me a few minutes to figure out that you snuck around the crowd and went the other way. Can I sit down?”

“Free country.” That came out a little snarkier than I planned.

“Technically, Mexico is a little less of a democracy than the U.S.”

“You can still sit down. You’re not breaking any laws.”

“Thanks. ’Cause, you know, wouldn’t want to do anything illegal.”

“I can appreciate that.”

Max lies down next to me.

“Kylie, I know this is complicated.…”

“Yeah, you have a girlfriend.…”

“Maybe. But I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day.”

“Really?”

“Really. Whatever’s happening between us has nothing to do with Lily. And everything to do with us. That kiss meant something. The whole day has meant something.”

“But what about Lily?” I don’t want to keep pushing the issue, but I can’t help myself.

“Look, I have no idea what’s going to happen between us. But I know I can’t have these kinds of feelings for you and stay with Lily. Even if we never see each other again—which would suck, by the way—I can’t stay with Lily. Today made me realize that I don’t really love her. I don’t know if I ever did.”

Max and I stare at each other.

“Sorry I bailed on you,” I say. “It’s just, this is not normally what I do.” I’m peeling off my defenses, leaving myself raw, exposed, scared. I’m doing this, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

“Me either.”

“What are you talking about? You’re like a professional boyfriend.”

“Thanks. You make me sound like a gigolo.”

“That’s not what I mean. It’s just, you always have a girlfriend. And, well, I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“But it’s never felt like this with anyone. And it’s not just about the kiss. Although it was pretty awesome. It’s more than that. I know we don’t really know each other, but I feel completely connected to you, Kylie. I can’t explain it. I can talk to you. Really talk. Being here in Mexico, it’s been such an insane experience, in a good way. And being away from La Jolla, away from Freiburg, it’s made me realize how boring things have been. How boring I’ve gotten. I’ve built a wall around myself and I don’t let much in.”

Max stops and breathes in. I don’t say a thing.

“I don’t want that anymore. I want to explore life, and so do you. I love that about you. When we kissed, it just, I don’t know, kind of blew me away. I know it all sounds so corny, but you can’t deny it. There’s something here. And we’d be idiots to just walk away from it. I don’t think this happens all the time, Kylie. I mean, I’ve had a lot of girlfriends and I’ve never felt like this.”

“Please, do tell me more about the multiple girlfriends. That is so sexy.”

“Seriously, Kylie. I want to talk about this. And I never want to talk about anything. I don’t know if you’re scared or you don’t feel the same—”

“I feel the same,” I blurt. “And I’m scared.”

“Me too.”

Strange as it sounds, I believe him. The great Max Langston is scared and nervous, just like me. We’re not all that different.

We look at each other for a moment. I think we’re both trying to make sense of things. It’s not entirely clear, but as I look at him, it’s coming into sharper focus. I realize I’ve made my decision. I’m going for it, whatever the consequences, Lily or no Lily, even though it may only last for one night. Whatever this is, I don’t want it to end. Hopefully, I’m not being naïve. At the very least, we’ll have tonight, which is more than I would have had yesterday.

My hand slides over the wooden planks and I place it on top of his, closing the distance between us. He squeezes my hand tightly.

“I can’t make you any promises, Kylie. All I’m saying is, I like you. A lot. I can’t talk like this to anyone else. You’re funny. And smart. Very smart. And sexy. And weird. And a little bit of a head case.”

“I’m a total head case.”

“Maybe, but it’s sexy. Really sexy.”

Max flashes me a huge grin. God, he’s gorgeous.

“So can we just be with each other and see what happens?”

“Yes. We can. We totally can,” I say.

And then, without thinking too much about it, I climb on top of Max and slowly, very slowly, lean down until our faces are nearly touching. I float over him for a moment, studying his face, his features, and then I kiss him. And he kisses me. And our mouths open and the world disappears, and it’s just me and Max alone in the universe. Nothing matters except for tonight. And if that’s all we end up with after everything is said and done, it’s enough. Because right here, right now, is all that matters. I don’t want to be anyone but Kylie Flores kissing Max Langston in Ensenada.